


Wet Grass

by perphesone



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Season 1, flirtation, sapphicstartrek's Fanwork Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perphesone/pseuds/perphesone
Summary: Neither of them have been on the station for long, and both of them are looking for a connection that feels right. Jadzia finds Nerys at Quark's in the middle of a night of drinking alone and takes her to look at the stars.Written for lesbiansisko as part of sapphicstartrek's 2019 fanwork exchange on tumblr.





	Wet Grass

Even the _light_ at Quark’s was slimy. Dim ribbons of amber slithered around the smoke and vapor that clouded the air, caressing the shadows where they happened to meet and otherwise leaving the darkness to its own grimy business.

From her table for one at the back of the bar, Nerys watched the bodies passing through the smoke at a sideways angle. That is, _she_ was at a sideways angle, slumped onto the table with her cheek on her forearm. She surveyed the crowded room through her drink, everything distorted by the curve of the glass and the color of the liquor.

There had been a time when she’d never let herself get so drunk. It would have been too dangerous. If she had dulled her senses for even an hour, it would have put her own life at risk as much as it would have jeopardized the fight against the Cardassians. And now… well. _Now,_ there was such a thing as “off duty.” She’d never had that privilege during the occupation.

Legs passed by her: legs in Starfleet uniforms, legs in brocaded Ferengi trousers, the bare thighs of the _dabo girls –_ disgusting, what they had to put up with – and wasn’t she complacent? Wasn’t she letting it happen just by being there? By giving Quark her money? She ought to go give Quark a piece of her mind instead. Better yet, she ought to go give him a piece of her right fist.

Nerys downed the rest of her drink and stood up too quickly. Steadying herself against the edge of the table, she pushed off towards the bar, head swimming.

She heard someone call her name – _Major Kira! –_ and turned to see Lieutenant Dax smiling at her, standing up to greet her. Just behind her, still seated at the bar was Commander Sisko. Either Quark was back to cutting his liquor with something rotten, or the commander’s gaze made Nerys feel vaguely queasy. She hadn’t been trying to draw the attention of a commanding officer, let alone two members of the station’s senior complement.

“Will you join us?” Dax asked her. Somehow, Dax’s gentle voice sliced through even the loudest, thickest sounds in the air. The music, the clatter, and the mounting cries of a game of _dabo_ were no match for Dax on a mission.

Nerys wasn’t sure how to answer, but she flinched away when she felt the back of Dax’s hand brush her wrist. “I came here to be alone,” she blurted.

Without so much as blinking, Dax gracefully withdrew her hand. “I can see that,” she said. From anyone else, those words would have carried judgment with them, but Dax never seemed to have the constitution for looking down on someone. It was something Nerys admired about her: the way she could speak to anybody like an equal. “It looks like you’ve been alone for a while, though,” she continued. “Why don’t we take a walk together?”

Before Nerys could even nod or shake her head, Dax had turned back to the bar. Nerys watched her lean close and murmur something to the commander, then exchange a few words and a slip of latinum with Quark, who was stalking around hungrily behind the bar like always.

A moment later, Dax was pressing a cool glass into Nerys’s open hand. Nerys watched the clear liquid ripple under the yellow lights, then looked up at Dax, her gaze questioning.

“Just water,” Dax assured her. Then, she leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, her breath warm on Nerys’s cheek. “Would you believe he charged for it? I had to talk him _down_ from five slips!”

Nerys laughed. “It’s Quark we’re talking about – I’m just surprised he isn’t charging for the air.”

Dax quirked an eyebrow and glanced surreptitiously back at the bar. “I hope he didn’t hear you say that. Let’s get out of here before we give him any more free ideas,” she said, letting her hand hover just at Nerys’s elbow, skimming over the fabric of her uniform without quite touching her.

“What about…?” Nerys indicated the commander, whose expression had softened to something like amusement.

“He won’t mind,” Dax assured her. “Benjamin has already heard all of Dax’s best stories, anyways – and he was there for a few of them, himself.”

One of the girls passed behind them, so close that Nerys felt her bare shoulder swiping across her back. When she turned to see who it was, the woman – _Liara,_ Nerys recalled her name – flashed her a dazzling smile complete with fluttering lashes and nodded politely at her as she kept moving, balancing a tray full of glasses in all shapes and sizes on one steady hand. Nerys couldn’t help but stare as she wove her way into the crowd.

She only realized when she met Dax’s eyes on the way up that they’d both been distracted by Liara’s glittering hips.

“What kind of stories?” asked Nerys, eyeing Dax warily. Nerys didn’t know Dax very well, it was true, but she’d heard plenty about what kinds of men she’d been. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear anything about Curzon’s exploits that she didn’t already know.

Then again, they’d _both_ been distracted.

“Oh, you know,” said Dax with a smile that dismissed the question entirely. “I was actually thinking I’d like to hear some of yours.”

Her face fell. “Mine?” she asked. “Sorry, Lieutenant, but my stories aren’t very entertaining.” After all, she didn’t have anything to reminisce about except for the occupation. Maybe Klingons could find drama and glory in the horror stories of war, but that didn’t work for Nerys.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Dax said. Nerys realized that she’d been steadily guiding them towards the exit when they stepped out into the light of the promenade. Even dimmed to stationwide nighttime levels, the fixtures on the promenade were bracing compared to the half-light in Quark’s. Out on the promenade, Odo had made sure that there were no shadows to hide in. Quark, in his infinite wisdom, had taken advantage of that fact and created an overabundance of dark places for his patrons to enjoy.

Nerys didn’t like Quark, but she could use a place to hide every now and then as much as anyone.

Dax never seemed to mind being exposed; being at the center of the room came naturally to her. Nerys, on the other hand, rarely liked to be looked at. She crossed her arms in front of her as they walked, awkwardly clutching her glass of water to the center of her chest as if to shield herself even from Dax’s attention.

“Why don’t you tell me about that week you spent in the Pangloss system?” asked Dax casually.

Nerys frowned. “I’ve never been to the Pangloss system,” she said. In fact, she hadn’t ever _heard_ of the Pangloss system.

“Funny,” said Dax, a smile pulling at her cheeks, “I’ve never been there, either. That means you can tell me anything and I’ll have to believe you.”

Nerys suspected that Dax was making some kind of joke at her expense, but the trill’s clear, blue eyes betrayed no unkindness. “I don’t understand,” she admitted bleakly, wincing at the rough edges in her own voice.

“I’m serious,” Dax insisted. She touched Nerys gently on the arm and lifted her hand away just as quickly. “Tell me about it. Why don’t you start with the crash landing? I heard you were marooned without any fuel, and all you had to eat were a week’s rations of… tuwaly pie, Saurian brandy, and… thirty jumja sticks.”

Nerys watched Dax’s hands move as she conjured her story, half turned around to keep her eyes on Nerys as she walked ahead of her. Nerys moved a little faster to keep up. Realizing at last that Dax was just talking nonsense, Nerys guessed it was some kind of game, but…

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “Those are terrible rations, and I don’t even like jumja sticks. Why would I pack _thirty_ of them?”

Dax learned in seriously, slowing her pace. “I don’t know,” she said, her eyes glittering with mischief, “how _did_ you end up with thirty jumja sticks?”

“Um…” Nerys trailed off, glancing around the promenade as if one of the closed-up storefronts would give her an answer. She took a sip of her water, swishing it once around her mouth before she swallowed. “It was Quark,” she declared at last.

“It was Quark,” confirmed Dax, lowering her voice to an excited whisper. “So, this happened after you came to the station.”

“Of course,” confirmed Nerys. “It was last month, Jadzia. Don’t you remember I was gone?” she teased. No sooner had the words left her mouth than she realized the mistake she’d made. Her cheeks felt hot. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant,” she said quickly, averting her gaze. “I’m drunk,” she added, in case it helped, and took a deep breath to steel herself against the uncomfortable reprimand she knew was coming.

Or not.

When she finally looked up, she saw that the lieutenant didn’t seem upset at all. Instead, she almost looked _pleased._

“Major,” said Dax, “we’re off duty, and as my ranking officer you’re welcome to exercise your own discretion when it comes to informal address. That is, you can absolutely call me Jadzia, Nerys.”

Nerys had the distinct feeling that Dax – Jadzia – was working to further a secret agenda of her own, but it was so beyond the realm of Nerys’s comprehension that she could hardly hazard a guess as to the aim. Besides, with Jadzia watching her with that soft expression, the corners of her mouth just barely turned up, all Nerys could do was offer Jadzia a bemused smile of her own. “Okay,” she said, “Jadzia.”

Jadzia’s answering grin was wide enough to crinkle the corners of her eyes and wrinkle the bridge of her nose. Nerys swallowed, feeling her mouth go dry. She glanced down at her cup and took a drink of water, but it didn’t seem to help.

“So,” prompted Jadzia, “tell me more about what Quark had to do with those jumja sticks.”

“Oh! Well, he, um,” started Nerys, speaking before she quite had time to think. “You see,” she tried again, “I _had_ rations. I had very sensible rations packed and ready to go, but Quark… stole them. And replaced them with jumja sticks,” she finished lamely. That hadn’t been very clever.

Jadzia didn’t seem to mind. She leaned in even closer, putting her hand on Nerys’s shoulder this time, and made a show of being puzzled. “Really? Why?”

Nerys took another quick sip, feeling the condensation on the outside of the glass seeping into the cracks between her fingers. “Because they’re the same weight!” she declared. “He had to replace them with something, or else I would’ve noticed.”

“Yes, of course,” said Jadzia, “but why steal them in the first place?”

“Because he wanted to sell them,” Nerys decided, “to… a species from the Gamma Quadrant. They had just arrived on DS9 for the first time.”

“Oh, do you mean the Krillians?”

Nerys felt her brows knit together in confusion. “I don’t know. What’s a Krillian?”

Jadzia laughed again. “Sorry,” she said. “That was me starting to tell your story for you.”

“I hope you know I have no idea where it was going,” Nerys said, smiling despite herself.

“I’d say it was going about nine-tenths of the way to my favorite observation window,” said Jadzia, looking up to the mezzanine level, dropping her gaze to the ladder leading up, and finally anchoring Nerys to the spot where she stood with a playful wink. “Shall we?”

It took Nerys longer than it should have to make herself move again, and by then Jadzia had already started to climb up to the mezzanine. Putting one careful foot in front of the other, Nerys followed Jadzia to the ladder. With the rim of the glass pinned against her palm with three fingers, she could still use her thumb and forefinger to grasp the rungs. It wasn’t so different from climbing a rope with a Cardassian disruptor pistol in hand.

Nerys’s fingers strained around the side of ladder, turning her knuckles white. She gritted her teeth with frustration – and the familiar acknowledgement that everything came back to the Cardassians. Memories of the occupation. Anger.

Above her head, Jadzia swung herself easily up from the top of the ladder and onto the mezzanine platform.

“So,” said Jadzia casually, projecting her voice down towards Nerys, “how did you end up in Quark’s?”

The glass slipped out of her hand before she could answer. She swore out loud when she heard it shatter and threw back her head, eyes closed, silently asking the prophets for strength. “Just – not having a great night,” she declared, more to herself than Jadzia, and hauled herself up the ladder with renewed vigor. She nearly lost her footing and berated herself again for drinking so much, but managed to clamber up onto the mezzanine level without any assistance, though she noticed Jadzia holding out a hand from the top of the platform. “I got it,” she said, turning away as she pushed herself up to her feet.

“It’s okay,” said Jadzia, again reaching towards her.

“I know it’s okay,” said Nerys sharply, crossing her arms.

“I’ll just… go down and get it,” suggested Jadzia casually, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

Nerys surprised herself by laughing. “Don’t bother!” she protested. “It’s just _Quark’s_.”

“Oh, so it’s Quark tonight,” concluded Jadzia knowingly.

“What do you mean, it’s Quark tonight?”

“I mean, that’s why you’re so touchy. You’re mad at Quark.”

Nerys bristled. “Of course I’m mad at Quark! I’m always mad at Quark. That filthy little – _collaborator_ – has done nothing of value in his entire life. He exploited my people during the occupation, he continues to lord over the Bajoran women under his employment, and even _if_ I could forget all that, whenever I see him he does everything he can to personally get on my nerves.”

Jadzia raised her eyebrows. “But…?”

“But what? There is no but.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’ Quark is reprehensible, _but…_ ”

Nerys ran her hand through her own hair, an instinctive way of getting rid of the sweat on her palms and the lingering moisture from the condensation on the outside of her glass. The cool touch of water on her forehead made her realize how warm she felt. She took a deep breath, feeling her shoulders fall.

“But,” she said, relenting. She swallowed thickly before she continued. “That’s not what I’m upset about tonight.”

Jadzia met her eyes, and Nerys saw a familiar look of contemplation on her face. “Come on,” she said lightly. Holding her hands clasped behind her back, she started walking down the path.

“Wait – ” Nerys called, taking quick steps to catch up. “Aren’t you going to ask me what’s really the matter?”

Jadzia didn’t turn around, but Nerys could see her shrugging again. “You know that can tell me if you want,” she said.

Nerys scoffed. “You’re the one who approached me, you know. I was perfectly happy to spend the rest of the night drinking alone.”

Jadzia stopped in her tracks, about a meter ahead. Nerys followed her gaze to the observation window – a large, transparent aluminum pane that consumed a whole section of the station’s hull from floor to ceiling. It wad triple-layered, carefully sealed and pressurized, but perfectly clear.

“Most of the Dax hosts remained on Trill for the majority of their lives,” said Jadzia. Nerys frowned at the non sequitur but held her tongue. “All of them, in fact, except for Emony Dax, who spent time on Earth, and Curzon Dax, who spent so much time in the company of Klingons that he started to think of Qo’noS as a second home. Emony, Curzon… and me.”

As Jadzia spoke, her gaze was fixed on a point far out in the stars. Nerys’s gaze remained fixed on Jadzia’s blue eyes.

“This observation window,” continued Jadzia, “at this time of night, every night, faces Qo’noS, Earth, and Trill simultaneously.”

“So, you come here to think?” asked Nerys cautiously. She watched Jadzia’s jaw as she swallowed, the subtle changes in tension made more visible by the movement of the dappled spots on the side of her face.

“Sometimes,” said Jadzia. “Sometimes, I imagine things. Sometimes, I just come here. And I don’t think at all.”

“Does that… help?”

Jadzia smiled. “Sometimes,” she said. “What about you?”

“Um,” said Nerys, sifting through the murky thoughts in her still-addled brain. She wasn’t sure what Jadzia was asking, but looking out at the stars with Jadzia beside her filled her with a strange sense of longing. She tried to think of what she was longing for, and when she had an idea she spoke again. “When I’m looking out at the stars like this, from the station,” she said, “I always wish it felt the same as when I used to look up at the stars from Bajor’s surface. But it doesn’t. It’s the same space, I know, but… I want to be able to feel the breeze. I want to reach down beside me and feel the grass. Wet grass, covered with dew.”

Jadzia turned to face her. Her lips were parted, not quite smiling. “Sit with me,” she said, and lowered herself elegantly to the floor.

Nerys crouched down and sat back on her heels. Their eyes were locked together.

“Now feel the grass,” said Jadzia.

“Excuse me?”

“Put your hand here – ” she said, pressing her hand to the floor, “ – and feel the grass.”

Doubtfully, Nerys reached out and tapped the metal flooring with her fingers. _Tap tap tap._

To her surprise, Jadzia smiled and laughed. “That’s not how you feel grass,” she scolded. Nerys felt embarrassed and too warm, but she found she didn’t mind making Jadzia laugh. She didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay,” said Nerys. “How would you do it?”

“Like this,” said Jadzia. She held her hand over Nerys’s and guided her fingertips across the floor in long, languorous strokes. “How does it feel?”

It took Nerys a long moment to find her voice again. “It’s nice,” she said at last. Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine anything, try as she might. Even the sensation of smooth metal under her hand barely registered. Everything else in her mind was subsumed by the overwhelming feeling of Jadzia’s warm hand placed so easily over her own.

She traced the outline of Jadzia’s hand with her eyes.

Slowly, carefully, she turned over her own hand underneath Jadzia’s.

She moved to interlace their fingers and Jadzia let her.

The warmth fizzing gently under her skin was either a lingering effect of her drink… or it was just an effect of Jadzia.

Nerys stared at their hands, held together, and turned them over until Jadzia’s hand was underneath hers. Jadzia’s neatly-rounded fingernails, tipped with white, curled over Nerys’s dry knuckles.

Nerys moved her mouth soundlessly, caught somewhere between a grin and slack-jawed despair. “You know,” she said, “I don’t really have any friends on the station. The other Bajorans living here… I want to feel connected to them, but I don’t know them. The men and women I fought with are all still on Bajor, working towards reconstruction. Or else they’re being held prisoner in the Cardassian Empire.” She paused. “Or else they’re dead,” she added bitterly.

She couldn’t meet Jadzia’s eyes, fearing the look of pity she was sure she would find if she did.

“Why did you walk me out of Quark’s?” she asked. “You were there with Commander Sisko. You have such a… relationship with him, I thought you would prefer spending time with him.”

She felt Jadzia breathe in. “Benjamin is an old friend of Dax. _Dax_ has a lot of old friends. A _lot._ Of course, as Jadzia, I love them, too… but Jadzia is still looking for her _own_ friends. She’s still looking for that person she can take late night walks with, and look out at the stars.”

“You must know how many people would love to take a late night walk with you,” said Nerys. She winced internally, again wishing she could _think_ before she spoke. “Sorry – ”

“No, you’re right,” Jadzia said, “don’t apologize. If I want to find a chess partner, or someone to sit across from me while we eat _gagh,_ that’s easy. But I’m still trying to find someone who I can just… _be_ with.”

Jadzia’s voice was sure and steady, but when Nerys looked up and met her gaze, her eyes were shining with tears that hadn’t yet overflowed.

“That could be me,” said Nerys, giving voice to the words an instant before she recognized the feeling behind them.

When Jadzia smiled, she looked so beautiful. “I think so, too,” she said. “How should we start?”

“Well, I don’t like _gagh_ ," said Nerys. This time, when Jadzia laughed, Nerys not only didn’t mind it – she found she actually liked it very much. “But,” she continued, “I like talking with you.”

“Me, too,” said Jadzia. “Let’s talk.”

Feeling her heart pound in her chest, Nerys closed her eyes and imagined lying back on a wet, grassy hill on Bajor, watching the dark sky lit up with stars, so vast and so full of blackness and brightness that she felt as though she could fall upwards into space at any moment if she didn’t hold on tightly. Squeezing Jadzia’s hand like a tether, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

Maybe she could have a friend here, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! <3


End file.
